


Deep-Hearted Men

by wintershelter



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Episode: s01e15 Destiny, Fix-It, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6849100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintershelter/pseuds/wintershelter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second Mick saw Len, he froze. He didn’t move, he couldn’t breathe because Len was standing right there.</p><p>A reunion fic set after the events of 1x15 “Destiny”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep-Hearted Men

**Author's Note:**

> A pure unbetaed fix it piece because my heart is just broken. Title is from the poem "Grief" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

The second Mick saw Len, he froze. He didn’t move, he couldn’t breathe because Len was standing right there.

The team had been on the bridge going over a plan to get back Kendra and Carter. Mick had taken Ray’s words to heart and been actively involved in figuring out how to kill Savage, to get revenge and to avoid thinking of what had happened at the Vanishing Point.

Outside the bridge they’d heard footsteps approaching. Gideon hadn’t set off any alarms but everyone that was accounted for was in the room. Mick, Rip, and Sara all reached for their weapons. Sara’s hidden knife was already in hand before Mick and Rip had their guns trained at the entrance. No one was expecting Leonard Snart to walk in without so much as a scratch on him.

Len’s smirk was firmly in place as he took in the scene before him. “Well, you all sure know how to give a guy a warm welcome.”

Everyone in the room was completely silent. They were all in varying degrees of disbelief as they watched the man who had died not more than two days ago standing in the Waverider alive. Sara was the first one to shake off the shock.

“How are you alive?” She asked.

“I don’t know. It’s all a bit… fuzzy.” Len said, waving his hand around.

Len’s response seemed to break Mick from his trance. He started forward paying no mind to anything that wasn’t Len.

Mick stopped in front of the man. He looked him up and down before studying those crystal blue eyes. Mick dared himself to breathe and to hope that he was real and alive and not just some trick by the Time Masters or some false doppelganger.

Len kept his face neutral for the most part but Mick could see a flicker of relief pass behind Len’s eyes. It was the one place Len could never truly hide his feelings, especially if you had known those eyes for almost thirty years.

“Hey, Mick.” Len said simply. His tone implying that he’d just come back from some heist and not, you know, back from the fucking dead.

And that wasn’t that just so Len? He was always marching back into Mick’s life like nothing was wrong, like he hadn’t taken a piece of Mick every time he’d left him. Like he hadn’t almost shattered Mick to pieces this time when he’d thought Lenny had left him for good.

With no warning, Mick reeled back his right hand and punched Len across the face causing him to stumble back a step. It wasn’t hard enough to knock him out but it certainly wasn’t a love tap either. Mick hoped it’d bruise. It would serve the stupid bastard right.

Len was turning his head back around to face Mick, one hand trailing up to his cheek, but before Len could open his mouth or do anything else, Mick was yanking him into a hug. Mick clutched the back of Len’s jacket with his hands, his gloves creaking at how tight he was holding on.

Mick vowed to never let go of this man again. For as long as he lived he would make sure Len stayed alive too, none of this bullshit self-sacrificing shit. Mick wasn’t gonna let him.

“Don’t you ever fucking do that to me again.” Mick rasped in Len’s ear.

Len curled his arms around Mick’s waist needing the reassurance of Mick as well. He had honestly thought that he was seeing Mick for the last time by Oculus.

‘My old friend… please forgive me.’ He had said. He had fully expected those to be his last words to Mick. He’d told Mick he was sorry when he’d punched him out in the clearing after everything with the time pirates, but Mick hadn’t heard him that time. Len had to make sure Mick heard him now.

Before he’d told Sara to take Mick, Len had given the man everything he held of value: his words, his ring, his gun, and given it all to him. He’d wished they’d had more time, but they’d certainly made it further than Len had ever imagined they would. And this wasn’t the end for Mick. Mick would still live on and that was reason enough for him to do this.

Len froze as he felt Mick shake a little against him and suck in a wet sounding breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Mick like this. Mick got upset, sure, but he normally expressed it by through a rage of heat and fire, but this… This was different. Mick was genuinely distressed and Len had been the one to cause this.

“Mick.” Len said quietly, so no one else could hear.

It may have just been his name, but it was the way the Len said it that had Mick holding him tighter. Len always said his name in a way no one else did. It changed based on the situation but there was always a hint of endearment underlying that one syllable.

Mick buried his face in Len’s shoulder and Len swallowed past a lump in his throat as he held onto Mick. He needed to say something. He wasn’t sorry for saving Mick’s life. He’d do it again in a heartbeat, but he was sorry for the pain he’d caused him.

“I’m sorry.” Len said.

Mick bristled, remembering Len’s last apology. The words bringing a rising tide of memories. The sound of Len’s voice, the sharp sting of metal to his cheek, the abject horror he’d felt as he woke in Medbay, realizing what had happened even before he saw Sara sitting at his bedside, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

“Don’t apologize. Just don’t do it again.” Mick choked out.

“Okay.” Len murmured after a moment. Mick could feel him nod against his body.

Mick wasn’t sure how long he held onto Len, but eventually he felt his breathing return to normal and he became more convinced that Len was actually in front of him. Mick reluctantly let go of him but still kept him close. He had something to return to the man.

Mick shoved a hand in his pocket. “I think this belongs to you.” He said.

He pulled out the small pewter ring. The one from their first heist. One of the few things that Len had held onto over the years.

“Thanks.” Len said, bringing his hand up.

“Now, don’t lose it this time or I’ll regret ever giving it to you in the first place.”

Len felt something loosen in his chest as Mick carefully placed the ring in the center of his outstretched palm. It was so reminiscent of their first heist that he felt like he was twenty years old again.

He told Sara it was the only thing they’d managed to nick and was reminder of things not always going to plan. That was true, but it wasn’t the whole reason he’d kept it.

Len had been on jobs that had gone wrong before but never one this big and never with a partner at his side. He’d been so thrown by his plan dissembling he’d yelled they had to bail and quickly lead them out. He hadn’t even known Mick had managed to nab something in the confusion until after they’d lost the cops and were inside their safehouse.

Mick had patiently waited until after Len had finished his ranting over the job before speaking.

“Hold out your hand.” Mick said.

“Why?” Len demanded, thrown by the abrupt command.

Mick rolled his eyes. “Just do it.”

Len huffed but obliged. Mick carefully placed a chunky ring in the center of his palm. Len stared at it for a beat before raising his eyes to Mick’s.

“What is this?” Len asked.

“I nicked it at the warehouse before the cops showed up.” Mick explained.

Len scowled at him and brought the ring up to examine it. It was cheap. It wouldn’t even be worth the trouble of trying to pawn off to someone.

“It’s a pretty shit score, considering.” Len grumbled, still bitter about coming up short on the job.

Mick shrugged a shoulder at him. “It’s still something. Can’t win ‘em all the time, Lenny.”

Mick smiled at him and gave him a look that Len wasn’t entirely familiar with. Len had just enough time to commit that face to memory, before Mick was turning around and walking toward the fridge asking if he wanted a beer.

It wasn’t until years later after they’d shared their first kiss that he’d finally recognized the look on Mick’s face for what it was. His expression was one of devotion. Len realized that when Mick had given him that ring all those years ago that it was a promise, a promise that he was going to stick around with Len for as long as the man would let him. Len would be a liar if he said the notion hadn’t scared him.

Now, Len gently picked up the ring, a slow smile curling on his lips as he slipped the ring home on his finger. He examined it another moment before lifting his gaze to look at Mick.

“I won’t lose it this time, partner.” Len said.

Mick grunted at him in acknowledgement, though his eyes were still worried, like he was afraid Len was going to disappear if he took his eyes off him for one second. Len had to put those fears to rest.

“I made you a promise, Mick, remember? No matter what, I am always, always coming back for you.” Len said, voice strong and sincere.

Mick’s smile was genuine and Len couldn’t resist his next move, he had died, after all. So, regardless of the rest of their teammates watching, Len closed the small distance between him and his partner and gave Mick a gentle kiss. He brought his hand up to cup the back of Mick’s neck, the cool metal of the ring, grounding Mick to the here and now.

Mick eagerly kissed him back, bringing both of his hands up to frame Len’s face. As they broke apart their foreheads touched together. The gentle sound of their breathing was like a mantra and prayer between them.

No matter what, I am always, always coming back for you.

Even death couldn’t make Len break that promise.


End file.
